


your heart is a slow train coming

by delicate



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Louis, Doctor Harry, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Nurse Louis, Oblivious Harry, Pining, Unrequited Love, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicate/pseuds/delicate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Right, Louis. You always have him," she offers with a teasing smile, and Harry makes another face.</p><p>Bringing Louis to his sister's wedding, as his date. That just sounds a bit disastrous. Louis works under him, as in, he follows Harry's orders and helps him with just about everything. He's a wonderful nurse, and really loves the kids, works with them so well Harry is constantly amazed by him. Not to mention Louis' his best mate.</p><p>"Don't think so," Harry shakes his head, heart racing at the mere thought, reaching for the remote and setting up Netflix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your heart is a slow train coming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrewrites/gifts).



> Thanks to my lovely beta E, and all your awesome suggestions. And to A for brit picking! 
> 
> Prompt: Harry needs a date to his sister's wedding and convinces his best friend Louis to be his date. AU or not.
> 
> So, I went with AU. Sorry if I strayed so much from your original prompt, I hope you like it either way!! All your prompts were cool, but this one caught my attention.

The day Gemma finally tells him, Harry doesn’t believe her. A silly prank, like the time she told him she was moving to Venice at seventeen, and Harry cried for a day. His older sister, his little Gem, cannot be getting married. At twenty seven, only four years older than Harry himself, it’s not possible. So Harry cackles in her face, kicks up his feet on the chipped table in front of the couch- even though it pisses off his mum, and ignores her nasty glares. 

It’s not the first time Gemma has come to him, gushing over Jason or Kyle or whoever she’s in love with at the time, claiming he’s the one. It’s no different this time, although the rational part of his brain is screaming at him, this is it. He knows this is it. Ashton has been a constant in their life for awhile now. 

“Harry, you little twit, I’m being serious here. Ashton and I have been together for three years already. Oh, and I happen to love him,” she looks serious, and so in love, but Harry adamantly shakes his head, reaching for a couch cushion to crumple in his arms. 

“No, this is just like Jason-”

“Justin,” Gemma sighs, long-sufferingly. Harry’s realized, even at their age, she won’t ever quit at annoying him without meaning to.

“I love Ashton, and I am going to marry him, love,” she smiles, reaching up to run a hand through his curls. Harry feels a warm ache fill his tummy, glad to be here for the weekend, glad that both his mum and Gemma are here. It won’t happen often because Harry’s always busy over at the hospital, and Gemma has teenagers to teach. His mum is the only one who ever has time, when she isn’t volunteering.

“God. You really do love him. The two of you do make a cute couple. I guess,” Harry mumbles the last bit, yelping when she tugs on his hair. “Ow. What the fuck?”

“Stop being a dick and be happy for me, that’s what you’re supposed to do!” She tugs again, so Harry gently smacks her hand away and pulls her in for a hug, getting a whiff of her sweet scent, and a whole lot of hair in his mouth.

“I am happy for you Gem, honestly. He’s a sweet guy, and you deserve the absolute best. It’s just so hard to believe you’re getting married, my baby sis,” he pulls back, planting a kiss on her cheek. Gemma pretends she hates it, like she always does, but returns the gesture with a fond smile on her lips.

Gemma spends the rest of the day giving an overly detailed description of how she imagines the wedding will go, and how she expects every single person to shed more than one tear, including Harry. Harry will, he’s not ashamed to admit it to her. Harry’s tuned her out by the time she begins to go over the tiny details, he doesn’t really care for the centerpiece she’ll eventually choose, or what flowers she’ll use for the ceremony. 

It’s easy for him to nod at the right time and it actually works for Harry until Gemma brings up the fact that he’s officially dateless for his sister’s wedding. And that hurts, okay.

“A date?” Harry repeats dumbly, sitting up straighter and abandoning his slouched position. Suddenly, his back feels cold and there’s a downturn to his lips. “Like, what do you mean?”

Harry knows what she means.

"Don't be daft, who are you bringing to the wedding?" Gemma laughs, genuinely curious and Harry. Harry doesn't know what to say because what does he say?

He hadn't even thought about bringing someone to the wedding until now. And okay, he definitely wants to bring someone to the wedding. He wants someone by his side to enjoy it fully. It doesn't even have to mean anything, it definitely means something– who is he kidding. But, he doesn't want much. All he wants is someone to hold his hand during the ceremony, and someone to fuck at the end of the night.

Is that so much to ask?

"I.. I don't know," Harry murmurs uselessly, leaning back and sighing. Loudly. "I don't know who I'm going to bring. I don't even have anyone to bring, Gem. How pathetic is that? I'm twenty fucking three, a pediatrician, and single."

"Careful. That's the type of stuff you want on your dating profile page," Gemma teases, prodding Harry's bicep.

Harry rolls his eyes, snuggling further into the couch. 

"Haz, really. Don't act like you didn't get laid when you were seventeen," she scoffs, shifting until she's sitting facing towards him, feet tucked under her thighs. 

"Like a bunny rabbit, you were. Point is, you have more than enough people to choose from."

Harry doesn't say anything to that. Instead, he quietly enjoys the boost to his ego, smirks a little. Those days were great.

"Suppose so, I could go out. Meet someone," Harry shrugs.

"Yeah, so don't worry about that," Gemma smiles, and Harry really loves her as much as he hates her sometimes. Here she is, trying to cheer up her lonely little brother.

"And," she points out excitedly, "you always have Lewis."

"Who," Harry cackles, making a face. 

"Lewis– that cute little nurse."

"Louis," Harry corrects, amused. Harry had called Louis that once, and Louis didn't talk to him that entire day.

"Right, Louis. You always have him," she offers with a teasing smile, and Harry makes another face.

Bringing Louis to his sister's wedding, as his date. That just sounds a bit disastrous. Louis works under him, as in, he follows Harry's orders and helps him with just about everything. He's a wonderful nurse, and really loves the kids, works with them so well Harry is constantly amazed by him. Not to mention Louis' his best mate.

"Don't think so," Harry shakes his head, heart racing at the mere thought, reaching for the remote and setting up Netflix.

"Alright," Gemma shrugs, "just saying."

"Don't want to date anyone from work," Harry shushes Gemma then, deciding he's in the mood for a nice rom-com.

"I can still invite him, right?" Harry asks later on.

She laughs. 

 

“Did he finally fall asleep?” Harry asks quietly, stepping up behind Louis and hooking his chin over his shoulder. It startles Louis, but he’s quick to shake it off and smile brightly, his eyes crinkling. He smells a bit like clothes softener, must be the scrubs, and a bit like he's been walking around all day.

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, relieved. “He was being a bit fussy during chemo, but he got over it as soon as I stepped in. Says he doesn’t like it when I’m not there.”

“Oh?” Harry asks, smirking, and stepping out the room along with Louis. He shuts the door behind him with a soft snick, but leaves the lights turned on since it won’t be long before Davey’s parents pop in.

“Harry, your patients adore me,” Louis smiles slyly, hands sliding down to grip his hips.

Harry can’t deny him that, every single kid Harry has treated loves Louis. Even if it's a tiny speckle. 

“And I adore them,” Louis says before Harry can say anything else.

“You just love to brag,” Harry says, reaching out to pinch Louis’ hip. Louis squeaks and squirms farther away from Harry before he can do it again. Shame, Louis’ hips are soft.

“They adore me, too,” he states casually, and watches Louis snort with amusement. Harry definitely does not think the way his nose scrunches is cute. No.

“You’re just saying that to sleep better at night,” Louis giggles, slapping a couple of manila folders his way, and walking further and further away. Harry oogles his bum as it swings side to side.

“When you’re done with that, want to join me for lunch? Zayn wants to eat with Liam,” he turns around, sounding hopeful and like they're not best mates, biting on his lower lip. There's a faint blush to his cheeks. The lights are terrible, they're too luminescent that even Harry will admit it. And he works here. Somehow, though, Louis manages to look good under them. 

Amazing.

He looks down at the paperwork, and tries not to wince, "Where?"

"Cafeteria food is crap, so that diner right across from us," Louis replies cheerfully, spinning around and turning the corner but not before waving his fingers in a short goodbye, smirking. Not at all like when he was asking Harry to lunch. 

Harry groans and trudges towards his office. He finishes quickly.

 

"Gemma's getting married," Harry blurts out when he slides into the booth. Louis' mouth pops open, the straw slipping out of his mouth smoothly. Harry tries not to stare too hard at the slickness of his mouth. He probably tastes just like the strawberry milkshake he's drinking. 

"Married? With that one fellow, Ashton?" Louis asks, excited as he sits up. "Are you jealous she won't have any time for you anymore? Is that why you look so panicked?"

"Please, she ran out of time for me long ago," he snorts, unperturbed. 

"Poor babe, needs all eyes on him," Louis pouts, batting his eyelashes. 

Harry nods. "Exactly."

"I wonder if your sister would let–"

"I don't have a date," Harry rushes out, completely cutting Louis off, fiddling with the ring on his finger. It's so ugly, he doesn't even know why he wears it. 

Louis glances up from his drink faster than Harry thought possible, his cheeks turning hot. Harry wonders if Louis always blushes this much, or if he's just started to notice more.

"Don't believe you," Louis leans forward, interested. 

"I'm lonely, what'd you expect?" He sighs. 

It's just. He hardly has any time to go out, and when he is out all he wants to do is take a five hour long nap because he's so exhausted. An endless cycle of never going out and wanting to go out. Harry's been stuck in the same place for three years. The last time he was at a club was a couple of weeks ago, with Louis. God, now that was fun. Louis' the most handsy, giggly drunk Harry's ever known. 

"Pitiful," Louis comments. Harry can see him holding back a smile. 

"Was thinking of going to a bar to try and pick someone up," Harry mumbles after some time, snatching Louis' drink and taking a sip for himself. 

"Oh," Louis says, leaning away, his mouth set in a tight line. Harry frowns for a split second, thinking he's said something wrong.

"And I thought– like, could you come with?" Harry asks, hopeful, pulling out a full on pout. 

"What?" Louis asks, incredulous. "Since when do you need little ol' me to hook up?"

"It's not hooking up," Harry protests, appalled, "I need you there for moral support, and to take me to yours when I get drunk because I've been rejected too many times."

"Moral support," Louis snorts, looking skeptical. "Rejected too many times."

"Please," Harry drags the word, pouting harder. "Please, please."

"I don't know," Louis says, smiling now. Harry likes it better when he's smiling. "Keep saying please."

"Dick," Harry frowns.

"Cock," Louis challenges.

"This can go on forever," Harry rolls his eyes. "Just– come with me."

"Since you've asked so nicely," Louis sighs. It's so exaggerated. It's so annoying. It's so Louis.

 

"Thought you only wore those jeans when you wanted to get laid," Harry whispers into Louis' ear after pulling him in until he's close rather than having to shout it over the loud pounding of the music. They decided, or rather Louis decided a club was a much better place to find a suitable someone for Harry. Harry's not very picky, he's desperate at this point so he'd gone along with it. When doesn't he.

"What a great idea, Harry," Louis pats Harry's chest, and Harry doesn't know whether he's being sarcastic or not. He doesn't have very long to ponder on that thought with Louis dragging him all the way to the bar and demanding Harry to buy him drinks.

"Go on, buy us drinks while I scan this place," Louis barks, spinning around in his seat and no he will not mention the fact that Louis' feet don't even touch the ground. He is almost positive Louis would dump his drink on him, and then ask for another drink without a hint of remorse. 

Harry orders the fruitiest drinks he can think of, Louis likes to pretend he hates them, but just like Harry he enjoys them enough to knock down at least four of them in one go.

"Find anyone?" Harry asks around the rim of his glass, nudging Louis' side and handing him his drink. 

"Nope," Louis says, too cheerfully.

"What about her?" Harry gestures as discreetly as possible to a pretty brunette just a few feet away from them. She's talking to a few of her friends, smiling, and Harry thinks her smile is nice enough.

"I like her smile," Harry says and he startles when Louis laughs, handing Harry his empty glass like he expects him to put it away. Harry does. 

"That's it?– very low standards you have there," Louis teases, sneaking Harry's drink into his own hands even though he's got his right next to him. 

"What? They're not low," Harry protests, a small frown forming on his lips. "If I'm not attracted to her smile, then there'd be a problem."

"What else do you like about her?" Louis asks suddenly, licking his lips.

"Um," Harry fumbles, scanning the girl from head to toe, "her hair?"

Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling and he's so good at attracting attention, "Lucky you have me here, you are."

"Oh, I'm so lucky," Harry grumbles.

"Look at him," he wraps a hand around Harry's forearm, nodding towards a very fit boy downing a shot. And then another. "Looks like the type of boy you'd go for."

"I suppose," he nods thoughtfully, letting his eyes wander over the lad. He looks small, but that could be Harry's eyes tricking him, and he's stocky with thick shoulders and thick biceps. "Does he look like the type to accept a spontaneous wedding invitation?" 

"No," Louis answers quickly almost snarkily, then shakes his head. "Dunno, I mean. You have to go ask him."

"Okay," he agrees easily, drinking the rest of his apple martini. "Okay."

"Quickly," Louis shoos him away, turning around and flagging the bartender. His shoulders look a little tight, and Harry means to ask him, but he gets caught on the way the lad's throat works as he swallows. 

Harry doesn't waste any more time and makes his way over to the short lad, placing a hand on his bicep and squeezing lightly. He looks up and doesn't push Harry away like he was expecting– it's happened before. 

"Hi there," he shouts over the music, slinking his palm up Harry's chest and resting it on his pec. Alright. This is going way quicker than he meant to take it. 

"Hi," Harry smiles his most charming smile, hovering his hand above his back, knees bent the tiniest bit so they don't have to scream at each other to be heard. 

"I saw you staring," he smirks suddenly, digging his fingers into Harry's skin. It feels sort of nice, he could he used to it if that's what he was looking for. "My name's Michael."

"Harry," Harry says with a gentle smile, pointing towards the bar– or at least hoping he's pointing towards the bar, he's trying to look cool here. "Mind if I buy you a drink, love?"

"I've had enough," he shakes his head, lips still stuck in that same smirk. Harry's feeling a little lost here after that, a tad disappointed. He's going to pull away, dejected, except–

That doesn't last long, because he feels a hand slipping under his shirt, cold and clammy as it clings to his abs. "My place or yours? Mine is only five minutes from here."

"Oh um," Harry stutters, placing his hand on top of Michael's, and he means to take it off, but that only encourages him further. 

"I don't have any lube at my place," Michael pouts. "Or condoms. So yours?"

"I'm not actually looking to, for that, you know," he winces. He sounds awful go his own ears. He knew this wasn't the right place to meet someone– these places are meant for hooking up. And while he wouldn't mind, he needs a real date for his sister's wedding. He can't have his one night stand fill in that position. Harry would like to look back on his sister's wedding rather fondly. 

Michael looks sad for all of two seconds, "Too bad, I was looking forward to this. You're pretty hot. That lad you're with, he's hot, too. I would do both of you."

Harry laughs, and they talk for a bit until Harry decides he needs to get back to Louis and decidedly tell him he's horrible at matchmaking. It will definitely make him mad. From here, he can see Louis wiggling his bum, and Louis only wiggles his bum when he wants attention or he's a little tipsy. Harry's guessing it's both.

"Didn't work out," Harry laments, squeezing Louis' side and nudging up against him. Louis doesn't even flinch, just presses closer to Harry, a little pout on his lips.

"Oh no," Louis says, pressing a glass into Harry's hands. "No, Haz."

"Yes," he sighs, taking a swig of whatever's in the glass, and fuck, it's horrible. Probably whiskey. He hates whiskey. "He wanted to fuck me."

"And that's bad?" Louis blinks up at him. 

"Bad. I wanted him to come to my sister's wedding– maybe this isn't the place, Lou, we should just go," he doesn't expect for Louis to punch his arm, and it doesn't hurt, but it still comes as a surprise. 

"Ow," he says, much too late.

"Stop moping, you– you fool," Louis points a finger at him, baby blue eyes a little glassy. 

"Get back in there, and look for," Louis pauses, trying to find the right words. He looks torn. "Look for someone you'd fuck forever."

It must be the alcohol talking to him.

"Go!" Louis shouts. They're too close for shouting. He's just being a dick to be a dick now.

"Hush," Harry flicks his bum and stands up, scanning the place again and trying to ignore how heavy the place feels with people. His shirt is starting to cling to his stomach, and his hair is getting awfully annoying. 

"What about her!" Louis says when he realizes Harry isn't going to move, still wiggling his bum to beat of the music. Harry doesn't know why he hasn't gone off to dance with someone. Louis is a great dancer. 

"Her?" Harry asks incredulously. "Her who?"

"Her," Louis points. Forget about being polite. 

"Stop that," Harry hisses, taking a hold of his fist, covering it entirely with his hand, yanking it down to his side. Tiny, he thinks.

"No," he pouts, shaking him off. He points again, more subtle. How did he even manage to become a nurse? "That pretty girl, that one." 

Harry barely makes her out, she's sitting with her friend and talking animatedly, hands flying all over the place. She looks nice enough. 

"Pretty," Harry says automatically. 

"Right, go on, woo her," Louis wiggles a finger at him. "Work your charming magic, doctor."

"Why do you make me sound so lame?" Harry mutters as he walks away.

 

It doesn't go well and he comes back to Louis with his shoulders a little slumped, throwing his arms around his waist and leaning all his weight on Louis.

"I hate this," he whines into Louis' neck, a little sticky with sweat but he still smells good. Really good.

"Want to leave?" Louis asks, swaying a little. Harry sways with him, and then holds them still before they both go toppling over. "We could leave."

"And watch some telly?" Harry murmurs into Louis' ear. He's not ready to go to sleep quite yet. 

"And eat something, I'm so hungry," Louis nods eagerly, petting his flat belly. Harry pets it with him, content with the way it makes Louis' eyes flutter shut. The thought that they might be too close doesn't even run through his head. 

They leave shortly after, stopping to buy Chinese takeout because Louis insisted– Harry has way more fun in Louis' cramped little flat. It should have been a given. 

 

Harry finds Niall at the reception desk, licking his fingers clean while he listens to Zayn and Liam babble on about their steady relationship. Or at least that's what Harry assumes. They're always doing that. 

"Where's Louis?" He demands when he reaches them, leaning against the desk and looking at all of them expectantly. 

"Hi, Dr. Styles, how can I help you today?" Niall asks sarcastically, putting on a terrifying grin. 

"He hasn't called me. He didn't even text me back! How am I supposed to know what's going on with him?" Harry looks around, expecting his friends to nod sympathetically, maybe give him a pat on the back and help him reach Louis.

He'd come into work, right, ready to start off another great day– tomorrow is Davey's last day of chemotherapy. Louis and him are both so excited, absolutely over the moon. That hadn't happened. He'd walked into his office and Louis was nowhere to be found. And Harry would know to find him there, the little brat has long ago decided it was our office, Harry.

It threw him off, really. And now he's pissed, because Louis won't so much as pick up the phone to text him back. And he's worried, although he's not too keen on admitting that. 

"He isn't your boy, you know," Niall sings, spinning in his chair, crumbs flying everywhere. "Safe to say Louis can take a day off without telling you, mate!"

Zayn nods, his hand sliding up Liam's back, completely not casual, "That's true. I can't believe you honestly expect him to text you every time he's not coming in."

"But– but," Harry shifts his gaze to Liam, someone has to side with him here.

"Sorry, Haz. If you think about it, you're not his boss. Louis just works besides you," Liam smiles, reaching for him but Harry pulls away. They're ganging up against him, is what this is. 

"What if something's happened to him?" Harry asks nervously, shifting impatiently. He can't stay here any longer, his break is only fifteen minutes long, he was hoping he'd get something out of them.

"What do ya mean?" Niall laughs, confused. "Come on, Harry. Louis' a big boy, he can take care of himself."

Harry wants to protest. Louis is tiny. 

Liam seems to take pity on him. Good. He needs it right now.

"Just go to his? He's given you an extra key so clearly he doesn't mind," Liam mutters the last part, nudging Zayn with a tiny smirk. Zayn nods knowingly. 

"Right," Harry says, aware that he's being left out. Again. 

"I'll go to his after I'm done here," he leaves them in rush, shouting a quick goodbye as he ties his hair up in a hurry. 

 

Going to Louis' means he has to wait until he's done all he can at the hospital, and that's around eight. Harry's not even embarrassed when he arrives at Louis' complex only ten minutes later. 

"Lou?" Harry knocks on Louis' door gently, thumbing at the two keys he was given. He knocks one more time and waits, slips the key in when he gets no answer. 

Pushing the door open a little cautiously, Harry makes his way inside when Louis comes into sight.

Definitely not how Harry was expecting to find him. 

"What the fuck?!" Louis shrieks when he sees Harry– it took him too long, throwing the blankets over himself. Like that's going to help him get away. God, he's so cute. 

"Fuck you, you brat. I texted too many times," he retaliates, slamming the door shut behind him, locking it for good measure.

"Hazza," Louis whines and hides, his voice nasally and it hits Harry. Louis' sick, like proper sick. The tissues littering his table should have given Harry some indication. "I'm feeling so poorly."

Harry's heart melts then, he's never been able to stay mad at Louis for long anyway. Not that he's ever given it much thought, until now. How is that he's been wrapped around Louis' little finger for so long? Without noticing. 

"Thing is, you could've called me back and I would have come to help," Harry sets about cleaning up Louis' mess, not cringing so much as once. He's seen worse, he's cleaned much worse. Little kids tend to be very, very messy. 

"My phone's all the way over there," Louis whines, gesturing under the blankets. Harry vaguely makes out what he's gesturing towards, and finds Louis' phone perched on top of the center table.

"Really," Harry huffs, snatching it up and dropping it into the pile of blankets that is Louis. "That's about four feet away."

"Four feet too fucking far away," Louis snuggles under the blankets, rubbing at his runny nose.

"You're gross," he says without bite, plopping down next to Louis and cupping a hand around his jaw, using the back of his palm to touch Louis' cheeks, his forehead. 

"What are you doing?" Louis asks weakly, leaning into the touch unconsciously. 

"No fever. Think it's just a cold, babe," Harry murmurs, tapping Louis' lips. They're thin, and a very soft pink. Harry stares more than he should for someone who considers Louis as only his best mate. "Open up wide."

"Shut up, don't mock me. I'm sick," Louis mumbles all at once, but still parts his lips pliantly. 

"I'll run out and get you something," he says when he's done, running a hand through Louis' soft hair– no product whatsoever. Harry likes seeing Louis like this, soft and cuddly. Soft and cuddly Louis is so cute. Soft and cuddly and sick Louis is even cuter. 

"Gummy bears and tea please!" Louis calls out when he's just about to close the door. Harry smiles, and his heart clenches. It's a terribly nice feeling.

 

Harry would never have considered himself a possessive person, nor jealous. And Harry can't begin to explain it to himself when he feels exactly that when he sees Aiden, an intern nurse, follow Louis around with wide, sparkling eyes. Harry rubs his temples when he sneakily watches out of the corner of his eye the way Louis quietly explains everything there is to know to him, answering question after question without a hint of annoyance. The same can't be said for Harry. 

"Can we get going? Aura is waiting," he waves to the little girl sitting on top of her bed with a smile, her Power Ranger pajamas standing stark against the white sheets.

"It's okay, I'll wait," Aura giggles. He knows Aura, and the only reason she'll wait forever is because she hates check ups. Harry experiences a rush of fondness for her until Louis giggles, too, but not because of Aura.

Aiden is making Louis giggle. Aiden. 

Harry stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat, trying not to huff. He's very aware of Aura's eyes on him, he knows she knows something's up. For an eight year old girl, she's very smart.

Louis finally looks up, meeting his eyes with a sly smirk Harry's grown to love, "Very impatient, Dr. Styles."

"Sorry, sir– uh Dr. Styles. It won't happen again," Aiden stammers nervously and Harry would feel bad if it wasn't for the burning jealousy bubbling in his stomach. Stupid Aiden. What's so great about Aiden? 

"Good," Harry dismisses him, very aware that he's being rude but very little of him cares. 

Aura's check up goes by smoothly after that, if not a little tense. Harry tries to lighten up for her sake, but he can't stand the way Aiden drools over Louis. He gets it, Louis is amazing. Doesn't mean the lad has to run his hand down Louis' arm every time he utters a word. 

"What was that?" Louis asks when they've left the room, Aiden long gone.

"What was what?" Harry shrugs, refusing to look Louis in the eye, shuffling his trainers across the linoleum floor even though the floor squeaks irritatingly. 

"Why were you being such a prick to Aiden?" Louis asks innocently, his tone airy and hopeful

"'Cos," Harry huffs, acting more like a child than the grown man that he is, "he was all over you. I thought you were uncomfortable."

Lies.

"I wasn't," Louis chirps, smiling. Harry wants to gag. The thought of someone touching Louis so intimately is not an image he enjoys to picture. He tries to get that thought out of his head, but he can't shake it off as easily as it came in.

"You weren't?" Harry swallows the lump in his throat, he doesn't know why this hurts so much. A couple of weeks a ago, he wouldn't have cared. It feels like he's lying to himself again. 

"No," Louis shakes his head, his fringe falling over his pretty eyes, "it felt nice."

"It must have," Harry snaps, clenching his fists inside his pockets. He glances up and realizes Louis has completely stopped smiling and the look he's giving him makes Harry shiver where he's standing. He looks so sad. 

Harry closes his eyes, and swallows his jealousy. Louis wouldn't like someone like him, anyway. 

Harry frowns to himself, why does even care?

"I'll be in Liam's office if you need me, Dr. Styles," Louis says, emotionless as he spins and walks the other way. 

 

Louis' been avoiding him. Louis has never actively tried to avoid him, until now. Sometimes it'll happen without meaning to, and Harry understands. Working in a hospital comes with a lot of responsibility. But, he's not an idiot. The most obvious reason has to be that Louis hasn't stepped foot into his office since, since then. Harry feels awful.

Being away from Louis makes him feel awful. He hates it. He misses Louis, and it sucks knowing he's around here somewhere, probably hiding with Liam or Zayn, and avoiding a single moment alone with him.

And it's all his fault.

Harry pushes away a few medical records, running a frustrated hand through his hair. It's been a damn week, an entire week without hearing Louis' annoyingly sweet voice in his ear. He stands up and walks toward the door to his office, he's not getting much done anyway and checking in with a few kids might help him clear his mind. They always tend to cheer him up, with their toothy smiles and sticky hands. 

"Oh," Harry swallows when he opens the door, his lips lifting into his smile. God, Louis is so pretty. And he smells so nice, too. "Hi."

Louis glares at him, leaning against the doorway, "Emilio isn't feeling well."

Harry stands up straighter, immediately worried.

"It's nothing terrible, so relax. He's got a tummy ache and his mum isn't here so he's asking for you."

"Really?" Harry asks skeptically, walking alongside Louis as they make their way towards Emilio's room. It's rare when his kids want to see him. They prefer Louis over him all the time.

"Yeah," Louis grumbles. "He was a bit grumpy when I checked on him, and now he won't talk to me."

"Hey, it's okay," Harry dares to place a hand just above the small of Louis' back, smiling encouragingly. "Tummy aches are never fun, he isn't grumpy with you."

Louis nods, relieved. Harry's heart swells, because he did that. 

"You're right," he mumbles. Harry carefully slides his hand off of Louis' back, missing the warmth under his palm immediately.

"Uh– have you been avoiding," he starts to say, voice slow, but Louis spins around and slaps a hand over his mouth. Harry blinks.

"No, not here," Louis narrows his eyes, lips pursed. 

"Why?" Harry whines under his palm, licking Louis' hand and watching him blush furiously before wiping his hand on his coat. 

"That's unsanitary," Louis yelps, wiping his hand harder, although Harry's sure he's already wiped off all of his spit. 

"Yeah," Harry shrugs, biting his lip and willing his heart to stop beating so fast. He just, he wants to kiss Louis so bad. 

"And not to mention gross," he continues, slapping his hand over Harry's shoulder and rubbing hard. God, he's so overreacting just for the hell of it.

"How did you even get your Phd?" Louis rambles, scrunching his nose.

"I want to kiss you," Harry blurts, eyes wide and pink cheeked. "Like. Kiss you, kiss you."

"Well, I don't," Louis sniffs, but he's just as pink as Harry feels.

"Yeah, you do."

"No, because you're a dick, and– and I've been wanting to kiss you all this time and you didn't even notice. Too busy snogging every–"

Harry has to cut him off with a kiss, their lips touching without finesse, and it must hurt but Louis still lets out a small moan, falling apart under Harry's mouth. He pries Louis' lips open, desperate for the taste of his mouth when Louis pushes him away. He's breathing hard, and his lips are so red and swollen. Harry swallows whatever he has to say about how Louis looks wrecked with a simple little kiss. That would earn him a good knee to the dick. 

"Fuck," Louis says, touching his lips tenderly. "Trying to slip me some tongue on the first kiss, eh?"

Harry flushes and holds back from attacking Louis again, "I wanted a taste."

His heart is flooding with happiness and so much love, and he can't understand how he's been so dumb. He can't understand what held him back from Louis for so long. Louis– he's everything, and so, so perfect. 

"Was that all you wanted?" Louis asks quietly, looking small and uncertain and no. 

"No," Harry rushes out in a quick breath, shaking his head and willing himself not to mess this up. He's never been good with words, rambles on and on and never really gets to his point before he's cut off. "This entire week– it's been hell. It might sound like I'm exaggerating, but that's what it felt like for me. And then Aiden Grimshaw, he was all over you and I hated that. But I felt terrible, yeah? 'Cos I had no right to be jealous."

"Christ," Louis laughs, eyes pinching at the corners. Harry thinks he's so beautiful. "That bad, huh?"

"So bad," he pouts, and then he finally reaches for Louis, hands on the curve of his hips to bring him flush against his chest. "I missed you."

"Needy one, you are," Louis points out with a small smile, hands gripping the lapels of his white coat. He then stuffs his face in Harry's chest, chewing on his lip, then mumbling, "I've always had a huge crush on you, did you know that?"

"I didn't," Harry shakes his head. "M'sorry I didn't see that, love."

"S'okay," he muffles, nipping at his sternum. Sharp little teeth catching on his skin. 

"I think– I think I've always liked you, too," Harry whispers

"I know you did," Louis looks up, smiling. 

Harry's heart stops, he's sure of it. He leans down for another kiss, but Louis squirms out of his arms and twists his nipple, scuttling into Emilio's room. 

"Inappropriate!" He shouts, giggly and unbelievably happy. Then, "Just so you, I'm going to make you work for it!"

Harry follows behind him blindly, subtly checking out his bum. It's a wonderful bum. 

 

Turns out, once Harry's got his boy, he really can't keep his hands to himself. And it's only been two days since Harry gave into his oblivious crush on Louis.

"Stop it," Louis says, wiggling and failing to move Harry's hand slipping under the tight long sleeve beneath his scrubs– it gets cold sometimes. If Harry's lucky, Louis even wears Harry's white coat. He loves when that happens.

"Not a chance, my hands are cold," Harry excuses lamely.

"Right," Louis snorts, standing up where he was cramped on the arm of Harry's chair. "Get to work."

"I want a kiss, first," Harry taps his lips, pursing them. Louis looks ready to give in, his tongue poking out from his lips to gloss over them. 

Louis doesn't give him just a kiss, though. He locks the door to his office, quickly scuttles back to him and jumps on his lap. 

"One snog, and that's all you're getting," Louis says, cheeks tinting pink as he leans down to snog Harry breathless.

They don't really get much paper work done.

 

He's really nervous, is the thing. Gemma's wedding is a week away and Harry has yet to ask Louis. So, maybe he's been waiting for his boy to bring it up, but that doesn't seem likely to happen. It seems Louis wants Harry to ask him, the little menace. Harry would ask him a million times at once, but every moment he gets ready, he either freezes up completely or he's interrupted. 

Today, though, today is the perfect day. They have the day off together, and they're spending it in Harry's flat. Together. He wants to do all the sappy, romantic things with Louis. He opens the door, giddy, even though Louis' been here and knows the place from top to bottom. 

"I finally have Net–"

"Oh my god," Louis moans and pushes him against the door, shutting him up with a kiss. It's their thing. "I don't want to watch telly right now."

"Fuck," Harry says, blindly groping for Louis' ass and squeezing when he's got a handful of it in his hands. 

"Yeah," Louis nods quickly and Harry gulps, kissing Louis hard enough to bruise their lips.

"We should," he begins, nipping at Louis' plush bottom lip and tugging to hear a small whine slip from his mouth. 

"We should, hang on," Harry murmurs, and doesn't stop, fingers gripping the hem of Louis' top to tug it off. 

"We should what?" Louis asks, naked, rubbing at his tummy and looking up at him from underneath his eyelashes. He looks desperate and ready to go at it again.

Harry's speechless for all of two minutes. 

"Uh– do you want to be my date my sis' wedding?" He asks quietly, eyes roaming over Louis' exposed chest, over the inked words etched into his skin.

Louis giggles, "Are you serious?"

"What, yes," he says, petulant.

"Wait, did you kiss me just to have a date for Gemma's wedding?" Louis asks, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"No!" Harry shouts, pushing away his curls when they tumble over his face. "No, no I didn't. I really– I love you. You're my boyfriend." 

Another giggle slips from Louis' mouth, and right. Of course he's fucking with Harry. 

"I love you, too," he murmurs gently, and then, "now are you going to fuck me, or not?"

It's a yes, then. 

 

Louis slips under Harry's arm, wrapping one around his waist and squeezing gently. "Are you crying?"

"Yes," Harry sniffles, his lip jutting out. Never embarrassed, his boyfriend is. 

"She just– she looks so beautiful," he continues and starts to ramble about her and her wedding and Ashton while Louis listens intently. Louis loves him so much, and won't ever get bored of listening to him go on and on. 

"Give me a kiss," Louis says, and Harry complies easily, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. Louis slips a hand into his curls, soft and luscious, but mostly to tug him down further. Harry's too stupidly tall, and one day, Louis will grow tall enough so he doesn't have to stand on tiptoes all the time. 

"You look so hot," Harry whispers into his ear, unabashed even with his parents standing a few feet away. 

Louis hums contently, "I guess you do, too."

"You guess?" Harry deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest. Louis touches his biceps just because he can. 

"I do," Louis smiles. 

Harry's lips twitch, "I love you."

"I love you," Louis says and then nods towards Gemma, who's trying to wave Harry over. "Your sister wants you."

Harry looks torn, like he wants to stay but it's his sister's day so Louis pushes him that way. "Go on, I'll wait for you here, Haz."

"I'll be quick," Harry says and rushes towards Gemma, his fancy scarf whipping backwards. Louis shakes his head with a soft smile, he cant believe how lucky he is. 

"So, he finally got it then?" Liam's voice says, laughing. He, Zayn and Niall flock towards Louis, looking almost proud. Louis will hit them over the head one day, he's too happy for that now, though. Niall drapes over his back, cuddling his face into his shoulder. He's heavy, but Louis doesn't say anything, just pets his hair. 

"Yeah, he did," Louis murmurs gently, "he finally got it."

"And it only took him two years," Zayn mumbles sarcastically. 

Harry looks over, smiling something akin to sunshine, and Louis sighs. He would have waited forever.

**Author's Note:**

> phew


End file.
